


Good Cop, Dead Cop

by LadyKeladry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, First Time, M/M, Smut, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKeladry/pseuds/LadyKeladry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Jaime is in Witness Protection and Brienne is a US Marshal responsible for keeping him save.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly I own neither Brienne nor Jaime. And the whole fic idea was heavily inspired by the TV show "In Plain Sight", especially s01e09 from which I also borrowed the title and some lines of dialogue.

**New York, January**

“Why do you even care about that whore?”

“I care because I'm a cop, you jerk, and you're pissing me off!” Jaime growled, as he grabbed the boy’s shoulders and pushed him against the fence.

“I don’t know anything, man!” the kid squealed, almost believable. Almost.

“You better shut you stupid mouth, if you’re only going to lie,” Jaime said, gripping the boy a bit harder. “And now you’re going to tell me the truth about Pia. You tell me who killed that girl or I take you in. And if I'm not mistaken, you're looking at a third strike. Am I right?”

“Come on, man. If I talk, I'm dead. You know how it goes.” The kid looked terrified now.

 _I almost have him_ , Jaime thought, as he suddenly heard someone running towards them. He looked behind him into the dark alley as his partner, Aerys Targaryen, appeared.

“There you are. I thought I’d lost you.”

“Since when are you so slow?” Jaime asked, already turning back to face the boy he was still holding against the fence.

“Since I found out you're a rat,” Targaryen said, pulled his gun and fired a shot.

Jaime felt searing pain shooting through his right shoulder, as he fell to the ground. For a moment he just lay there, unable to move, his vision going blurry.

Targaryen fired another bullet right into the young boy’s face. Never leave a witness alive. Then he turned back to Jaime.

“Your friends in the FBI should have warned you, Jaime boy. This is what happens to rats in New York, even if they’re Tywin Lannister’s son.” Targaryen pointed his gun at his partner, and that’s when Jaime finally awoke from his stupor.

Jaime was right-handed, his left hand had never been good for much. But now, at this very moment that he had no feeling in his wounded right arm, he somehow managed to pull his own gun with the left hand, point it at his partner and shoot him dead.

*********  
**

**Albuquerque, April**

When Brienne Tarth saw Jaime Lannister for the first time, he was being escorted by her colleague, Renly Baratheon, into their small conference room. Jaime looked every bit the handsome, wounded hero, she had seen on TV, when he had walked towards court to give his statement before the grand jury, uncovering the biggest police corruption scandal ever heard of.

“Good morning, Mr Lann-“

“You’re the one supposed to keep me alive?” Jaime cut her off, eying her suspiciously. “You look like you should be coaching a girl’s soccer team.”

“I assure you, she’s more competent than she looks,” Renly said. “And she can definitely kick your ass.”

Brienne, who had gotten up to greet her new witness, sat down again, cheeks burning. She was wearing her usual casual business outfit – jeans, a blue shirt and a black blazer – but no clothing would ever manage to make her pretty. Not with her striking height of 6 ft 3 in, her three times broken nose, her broad shoulders and small breasts. “If you’re done commenting on my looks, we should get through this paperwork.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet, woman.”

“My name is Brienne Tarth. You will call me Ms Tarth or Marshal Tarth.”

“I suppose I can save my comments for later, woman, when we’re done with this shit,” Jaime said, finally sitting down in front of her.

Brienne sighted. She already knew that this man was going to be trouble.

"Let’s start with Financial Obligations,” she said, trying to keep her calm. “Entry in Witness Protection does not absolve you from past debts."

“A Lannister always pays his depts.”

“Good for you,” Renly said. "Next item: Linking social security and other retirement accounts, such as IRA's, 401 (k)'s and pensions, to your new identity."

“Yeah. Good luck digging my pension out of the NYPD.” Jaime casually leaned back into his chair. A ray of sunshine caught his golden hair and Brienne cursed herself for always finding herself attracted to such jerks. Lucky for her, they never reciprocated her feelings.

“Can’t imagine why the NYPD wouldn’t want to pay the pension of a copslayer,” Renly quipped.

Jaime didn’t say anything in return, he just glared at Renly with his flashing green eyes.

After what felt like five hours, they were finally through all the paperwork, Jaime Lannister was officially in Witness Protection and Brienne asked: “Is there anything in what we just covered that you don't understand?”

“Yeah, I don't understand how a woman got those muscles of yours. Are you taking steroids? Or do you just know a really great gym?”

“I'm a little unclear why you think that's any of your business.” Brienne got up. “Come on, Mr Lannister. Time to see your new home.”

“I can't wait to see what kind of castle on the hill 60 bucks a day gets you in Albuquerque.”

“Let's go.” Brienne picked up her shoulder bag. She couldn't wait to be finally rid of this insufferable man. “Renly, are you coming?”

“I have work to do,” he answered. Brienne knew that was a blatant lie, but she couldn’t blame him for wanting to spend less time in Jaime Lannister’s company.

*******

When Brienne stopped her car in front of Jaime’s new flat, he stayed still in the seat, eying his new home with disdain.

“I’ve seen crack whores live in better apartments.”

“You’re not a Lannister anymore. Now you're Nicholas Coster and you’ll have to get used to living without Lannister money.”

“Let’s get something straight.” Jaime turned to face her. “I’ve not been living off Lannister money for the past 14 years. My father cut me off after I joined the NYPD.”

“Why?” Brienne was baffled. Being a police officer, vowing to serve and protect the general public, was more than honourable. She couldn’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want their child to become a hero.

“Because I was supposed to be the heir to Casterly ltd. Becoming a cop ruined my father’s plans for me, and if you don’t play by Tywin Lannister’s rules, he’ll throw you out of the game.”

“But you have siblings, who can take over the family business.” She had read that in his file.

“Yeah, my brother Tyrion is disabled, so according to my father not a good representation for Casterly. And my sister Cersei is – she’s a woman and apparently you need a cock to be a CEO.” Jaime absently rubbed his injured shoulder that still sometimes hurt after all these months. “But I’ve read in the papers that after the mess I made, father finally caved in and got Cersei a job in the company. So, I guess at least for her everything’s going well,” he said with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Brienne didn’t know how to react to that bit of information, so she just said: “You're paid up for six months. After that, you should be supporting yourself or have a damn good reason why not.”

“Yeah.” Jaime finally opened the door, got out of the car, slammed the door shut again and walked towards his new home, not looking back at Brienne.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which secrets are revealed and names are important.

**May**

Brienne had gotten maybe an hour of sleep when her phone woke her at midnight. Grunting drowsily she rolled to the other side of her king-size bed and picked it up. A man’s voice came through: “Uh... I was hoping you could come get me.”

“What? Who is this?”

“Did I dial 4-4-2- 3-1...”

“Mr Coster?” she asked incredulously, sitting up.

“You know, my name is Jaime.”

“Your new name is Nicholas Coster. You have to forget the old one, using it is way too dangerous.”

“Yeah, alright Brienne. So, uh, listen. I hopped a bus. Actually, it was more like nine buses. You know, just to explore the city, like you suggested.”

“Good for you,” Brienne said rubbing her eyes, part of her wondering if she was still stuck in a crazy dream.

“Yeah, except for the guy at the place I'm at says the bus stopped running around 9. You mind coming to get me?”

“Sorry, I'm not a taxi service.” Now she was slowly starting to get angry. This man, this insufferable man, was playing a prank on her.

“Come on. I'm like, totally lost.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. Maybe he really needed her, or maybe he was just a very good actor.

“Cops don't get lost.”

“I'm not a cop anymore, remember? And this doesn't look like the greatest neighbourhood. Honestly, I'm a little bit frightened.”

“I'm sure you're terrified.” Brienne sighed. She could feel her resolve starting to crumble. He was her witness after all, and she had a duty to keep him save. “Alright, give me the address.”

*******

When Brienne entered the restaurant – a very nice looking restaurant in a very respectable part of the city – she found Jaime sitting at a table, set up with two dinners and a bottle of red wine. Jaime smiled warmly when he saw her. Brienne didn’t.

“I don't know what happened. They just brought two dinners,” Jaime said, obviously lying. “You've got to try this Chilean sea bass, though, it’s still hot.”

Brienne chose to not try the sea bass, to not sit down. Instead she put her hands at her hips and gave Jaime her most intimidating glare. “Look, here's the deal. I can only imagine what kind of B-movie fantasy you conjured up about how this was going to play out. But to save you from future humiliation, you should know a couple of things. One, wasting my time is a big mistake. Two, arrogant assholes who think they can get in my pants using lame romantic clichés make me want to puke. Now, pay your bill and let's go.”

“So what do men do to get into your pants?” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“They don’t.”

“What?” Jaime laughed. “Are you telling me that you’ve never had a boyfriend in your life? Even with your face there’s got to be some men desperate enough to-“

Brienne abruptly turned around on her heels and headed towards the door. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need to be humiliated by yet another jerk, who thought just because she didn’t look like some delicate damsel, she had no feelings.

“Hey, Brienne, wait up!” Jaime sprang to his feet, threw some money at the table and chased after her. He caught her in the parking lot, grabbed her arm and forced her to face him.

“Let go of me,” Brienne snarled. He did as she bid him.

“Look, I’m sorry. It was just a joke, a bad joke, ok?” Jaime stroked his chin. He had grown a beard since Brienne last saw him and she thought it made him even more handsome. “Listen, Brienne, this city, it sucks. I can’t do anything that I used to like. I miss my old buddies, the ones I ratted out, and I feel like you’re the last connection I have to my old life. That's why I'd like to spend some time with you - because, I don't have to pretend to be someone else with you.”

“Why did you do it?” Brienne asked softly. "Why did you shoot your partner? Why didn't you just-"

"Play along?"

"Yes." She didn’t know why, but for some reason it sounded right that he should tell her his darkest secret in this dark, deserted parking lot, with only two streetlights to fight off the shadows.

“I did look away for some time. Let them do whatever's necessary to get the scum off the streets. It wasn't by the books, but... it felt good to see some actual results. And then... You want the complicated answer or the truth?”

“I there a difference?”

“Actually, no...” Jaime closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again he continued: “There was a girl, Pia. She was fifteen years old, just a kid really. She was a prostitute, working for Vargo Hoat.”

“The crime boss?”

“Yeah, him. One night she was trying to come on to me, didn’t know I was a cop. I probably should have arrested her but... what good would that have done? It would have just ruined her life a little bit more. So we made a deal. I was already investigating Hoat back then, didn't know my partner was working with him. Pia promised to get me information, I promised to get her off the street.” Jaime lifted his head to look at the sky; there was not a single star to see.

“Pia was the girl who died.” Brienne whispered. She had read that name in Jaime’s file, not understanding what the girl meant to him. Jaime looked into her eyes.

“They found out that she’d been playing them and so they killed her. That’s when I approached the FBI. I was so – so angry. I didn’t think about my buddies, about Aerys, I only wanted to find Pia’s murderer. But I got a bit careless and that’s when Aerys and my old ‘friends’ discovered that I was working with the FBI... You know the rest of the story.”

They were quite for a moment, then Brienne said: “Come on, Mr Coster, I’ll drive you home.”

“My name is Jaime.”

“We talked about this,” Brienne said exasperatedly.

“Come on, there’s no one else around, just the two of us.” He gave her a pleading look. “Safety be damned, I can’t just forget who I am. Please.”

“Alright, but just when we’re alone... Jaime.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is fighting and fucking - so basically everything Jaime likes ;)

**June**

“I need you to get me my certificate,” Jaime’s voice came through the phone.

Brienne sleepily glanced at the clock. At least this time he had waited until 5.45 am to call – it was a new record for the man who apparently never slept.

“What kind of certificate?” She couldn’t suppress a yawn.

“Did I wake you, Marshal?” Jaime snickered.

“You always do. Why can’t you ever call when it’s actual day outside?” She let herself fall back into her pillows.

“Because I don’t want to interrupt you at work.”

“You are work.”

“Am I? I was hoping you’d come to think of me as a friend by now.” There was a strange tone in his voice. Brienne couldn’t figure out if he was being serious or mocking her.

It was true; they had spent some time together lately – more time than she usually spent with her witnesses. She had given him a tour of the city, driven him to a second-hand car dealer and helped choose a car; she’d even taken him to her gym. Brienne liked telling herself that she was just helping him settle in, as she would do for any witness. The truth was that she liked being in his company, liked hearing the stories he told her of his first years at the NYPD, liked sparring with him in the boxing ring. Her boss, Catelyn Stark, had labelled this as just another incident of Brienne caring maybe a bit too much about her job, but had not objected.

“What kind of certificate do you need?” She repeated.

“You might have read in my file that I used to be a gym instructor – a part-time job in college.” Brienne hummed affirmative and Jaime continued: “Turns out our gym is looking for new trainers and I need a certificate to apply.”

“You want to apply for a job at my gym?” She asked a little baffled. Her gym. Going there was basically her whole social life, if you didn’t count the few evenings she went out with Renly for after work drinks or the occasional movie night he invited her to.

“Yes. Can you get me a certificate with my new name or do I have to do another instructor course?”

“No, you don’t,” she said, sitting up straight. “I’ll have another look in your file and then get you the exact certificate you had, with your new name.”

“Thanks, Marshal Tarth,” he said and hung up before she could reply. Groaning Brienne got out of bed – no use in trying to get some more sleep before she had to head off to work – and walked to her coffee machine.

*******

“Tell me about Jaime Lannister,” Catelyn said one morning as Brienne entered the office.

“Do you want me to get you his file?”

“No, I mean tell me what kind of man he is.” Catelyn sat down on the edge of Brienne’s desk. “I know that he killed his partner. He probably would have gone to jail for that, if he hadn’t made a deal and become the DA’s key witness.”

“No,” Brienne felt the need to defend her witness-or-friend-or-whatever-he-was. “It was self-defence. No jury would have found him guilty of murder.”

“Hm.” Catelyn smoothed a crinkle out of her green knee-length skirt, its colour complimenting her red hair. Brienne often admired Catelyn’s unfaultable sense of fashion. “Is he a violent man? Is he safe to be around?”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Brienne leaned back into her chair.

“My daughters have decided that they want to take self-defence classes. Or rather Arya decided and I encouraged Sansa to follow her lead.”

Encouraged means obviously forced, Brienne thought, since she knew Sansa to be a very athletic yet gentle girl, who much preferred ice-skating to punching someone in the face, unlike her little sister.

“Anyway,” Catelyn continued. “Your gym is the closest to their school and they have a new kickboxing self-defence class, taught by your Lannister.”

“Sansa and Arya are safe with him,” Brienne said slowly, understanding dawning. “Jaime would never hurt them. He was a good cop, Cat, if it hadn’t been for that corruption affair that he wasn’t even involved with... He’s still a good man.”

“Alright, I trust your judgment.” Catelyn smiled relieved. “Would you do me a favour?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Could you pick up the girls from school tomorrow and take them to a trial session.”

“Of course,” Brienne nodded and took out her phone to make a note in her calendar. “I might even join them.”

*******

Jaime’s class was almost full. There were some men but mostly girls and young women. One of them Brienne knew by sight: a rookie in the Albuquerque PD named Dacey Mormont, a lanky six-footer. She had of course some training in hand-to-hand combat, but she said she liked trying out new styles for fun.

And the class was fun. They started out with running and jumping-jacks for warm-up, did some stretching and then Jaime showed them some basic punches and kicks. When it was time to try out what they had learned with partners, Brienne grabbed a kick and punch pad and teamed up with Arya and Sansa.

Arya obviously loved it. Her form wasn’t that good, but she took to fighting dirty like a duck to water and Brienne was sure that after a few lessons that kid would give anyone a good fight. Sansa’s kicks and punches severely lacked in force, but she was graceful and fast – faster than most men anyway. It wouldn’t be easy for an attacker to get hold of her.

After watching them for a while, Jaime said it was time for a demonstration and called: “Come on, Brienne. Let’s show them rookies how it’s supposed to look.”

Brienne accepted the challenge, put on a pair of boxing gloves and soon they circled each other, waiting for an open. But soon enough Jaime got tired of caution, attacked her and they started a fast dance of jabs, hooks, uppercuts, blocks, front-kicks, side-kicks, roundhouse-kicks. For one second Jaime was faster than Brienne and moved around her, but she landed a back-kick in his stomach and knocked the air out of his lungs. He landed flat on his back, panting heavily.

“Are you alright, Jaime?” Brienne asked concerned.

“Yeah, fine. That was a really great move.”

She held out her hand and he took it, letting her pull him to his feet again.

“Jaime?” The young police officer, Dacey Mormont, asked.

Brienne tensed up at her own carelessness, but Jaime just gave her an easy smile. “It’s my middle name. Nicholas Jaime Coster. I prefer Jaime – you can all call me that. Nicholas is just so... sounds like I’m a Danish actor or something.”

Dacey laughed along with the others and Brienne let herself relax again.

“Now listen, rookies,” Jaime continued. “None of you will ever be as excellent as Brienne, this I can guarantee. But if you keep training hard, you might one day be good enough to hold your own against her for about ten minutes, and that’s something, right?”

Dacey nodded and everyone started clapping.

*******

**July**

Brienne and Jaime started training together with increased regularity. It was fun, real fun. Brienne hadn’t had a training partner since freshman year in college and she enjoyed seeing another side of Jaime. When they were fighting – or “dancing” as he called it – there was no hint of bitterness in him, he was just exhilarated and seemed more alive than ever.

Afterwards they usually went to a small diner to grab a bite, until that one rainy evening, when Jaime’s car was in the garage and Brienne offered to drive him home, so he didn’t have to use the bus. Of course Jaime accepted and of course he asked her inside when they arrived at his flat.

Jaime decided to make dinner – he was not a good cook, but he made great pancakes. Brienne even drank a glass of wine and maybe she shouldn’t have, because that’s when she started to really relax and when Jaime leaned closer over the table she didn’t move back, and when he cupped her face in his hand and softly kissed her she responded to him.

Jaime grew bolder by the minute, until he finally pulled her to her feet and started undressing her. Maybe Brienne should have resisted him then, but she somehow found her own hands pulling at his clothes as he backed her into his bedroom, mumbling something about how there was nothing better than fighting and fucking.

When Brienne fell back onto his unmade bed, her t-shirt and bra already gone, she finally came to her senses again – at least a little bit – and said: “You should probably know-“she stopped abruptly.

“Know what?”

“I’ve never done this before.” She swallowed hard.

“Brienne are you-“Understanding dawned on his face. “Are you telling me that you’re really still a virgin?”

“Yes.” This was awkward, really awkward. But she thought she couldn’t just let him fuck her without telling him.

“Are you afraid?” Jaime asked as he crawled on top of her.

“No.”

“Liar,” he said. “Look at you, you’re shaking.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “We don’t have to do this now, you know?”

“But I want to do this.” She lifted her head and kissed him chastely. “I’ve waited so long.”

Jaime kissed her back and then deepened the kiss until there was nothing chaste about it anymore, until he felt her body relax against his. “Oh, Marshal Tarth,” he murmured.

Brienne giggled. “You really like the idea of sleeping with a US Marshal, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Jaime answered, kissing her cheek, then her neck. “I wouldn’t be half as attracted to you if you were a secretary or something.” He licked a spot behind her ear that made her sigh. “A woman like you should be a Marshal, or a bail bondsperson, or a lady knight.”

Brienne giggled again, remembering how Renly had once confided in her that Loras liked to role-play in the bedroom and that his favourite fantasy was about the both of them being knights who had just won a great battle and now celebrated their victory.

Then Jaime pulled down her jeans and panties and started kissing her between her legs, and suddenly Brienne wasn’t able to think about anything anymore, except for Jaime’s lips and tongue.

The pleasure inside her built up slowly, then faster as Jaime pushed a finger inside her and began thrusting in and out. He added another finger and Brienne felt herself tensing up and grabbed the sheets beneath her. Jaime increased the speed of his fingers and as he gently pulled with his teeth at her clit, Brienne reached her climax, waves of warmth ebbing through her body.

Jaime grinned mischievously as he came up again and kissed her mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips.

“Alright?” he asked hoarsely. “Do you want to go all the way?”

“Yes, please,” she panted.

Jaime started unfastening his pants – he was topless already as his shirt was lying somewhere on the kitchen floor – but Brienne quickly stilled his hands.

“Wait,” she said. “I’m not doing this without protection. Do you have some?”

Jaime hesitated for a moment, then nodded, got up and walked over to a drawer. He took out a small box of condoms, threw them at Brienne, who caught them swiftly, and returned to the bed. He pulled down his pants and boxers and then crawled back on top of Brienne, stark naked.

Clumsily Brienne tore open the wrapping and handed Jaime a golden condom. She watched him as he put it on his cock, her nervousness suddenly returning. But there was no going back now; she didn’t want to go back. So she tried to relax as he kissed her again, pushed her legs apart and entered her in one swift motion.

Jaime groaned in pleasure and Brienne bit back a cry. It hurt – was it supposed to hurt that much? Then he started moving and it was still uncomfortable but the pain slowly faded and Brienne clung to him as he thrust into her faster and faster until he finally reached his own peak and collapsed on top of her.

*******

Brienne woke to Jaime trailing soft kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. She slowly turned to face him in the early morning light.

“Hello,” he said, smiling warmly.

“Morning,” she murmured and sighed as he kissed her collarbone. “Is this how you usually seduce women? Letting them beat you up in the boxing ring and then making them pancakes?”

“I never let you beat me up,” he said, lips still hovering over her skin so that she could feel his breath. “And I’ve only ever been with one other woman.”

“Only one?” That revelation stirred up Brienne’s curiosity. “Was she very beautiful?”

“Yes she was.” Jaime rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Hair like gold, eyes like emeralds, smooth skin, tall and slender, but curves in all the right places.”

“A green-eyed blonde?” Brienne laughed softly. “That sounds almost like your sister.”

Jaime turned to look at her and Brienne felt herself grow cold inside. “Jaime, you didn’t... That was just a nasty rumour that-“She swallowed hard.

“Cersei and I were more than brother and sister.” His voice was grave. “We came into this world together. There was a time when I thought that we were one soul in two bodies.”

Brienne sat up straight. Every muscle in her body had tensed up and she felt that she had to either punch him or run away.

“Brienne-“Jaime started and reached for her, but she leapt out of the bed.

“No!” She gathered her clothes from the floor.

“Please, you have to let me explain,” he pleaded.

“No!” This time she was shouting. “What I have to do is go home. And if you... care about me, if I mean anything to you, then you’ll let me go.” She turned around and fled, thankful that he didn’t come after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Brienne/Renly bromance


	4. Chapter 4

**September**

“So, what do you think?” Brienne asked tentatively, toying with the keys to the house – her house – while they were standing on the lawn – her lawn.

“I think you've picked the perfect time to buy a house,” Renly answered.

“No. I mean, what do you think about the house itself?” she inquired further.

Renly was the first she had told about her rash decision to buy a house. He was the first friend she had shown it to. Actually, all things considered, Renly was her only friend. When she had first come to Albuquerque, many of her colleagues had either made fun of her looks or simply questioned her ability to serve as a US Marshal. Not Renly though. He had greeted her with a friendly smile and initiated small talk whenever they both had no work to do.

And yes, Brienne had fallen a bit in love with him, his kindness and his good looks. Then, one day, Renly spotted a DVD box of The 10th Kingdom in Brienne’s bag, said he loved the mini-series and invited her over to his home for a TV marathon. Brienne had been thrilled, thinking that finally, finally a good man was interested in her because he had seen past her unattractive exterior.

That evening Brienne spent an unusual time in front of the mirror, carefully applying mascara and lipstick – which she never did – and putting on a nice blue dress – the only dress she had, the only one that managed to make her look plain instead of just ugly.

Then she arrived at Renly’s apartment and realised that this was not a date, that Renly had also invited his boyfriend Loras and Loras’ sister Margaery. It broke Brienne’s heart just a little bit, but this was the evening that Brienne and Renly became friends, real friends, and she wouldn’t have missed that for the world.

“Oh, nice structure,” Renly snapped her out of her reverie. “Can't say I'm wild about the decor, though.”

“Did you see the backyard? Did you check out the pool?” She grabbed his hand and led him toward it.

“Very swinging 70s.” He nodded approvingly. “You're like a grownup now.”

“You think I've made a terrible mistake.”

“You mean sleeping with your witness? Yeah, that was a terrible mistake. But who can blame you, considering that copslayers fine ass?”

“I was talking about the house.” Brienne glared at Renly. He was the only one she had told about that horrible mistake – just the sleeping with Jaime part, though, not his shocking confession afterwards. To be honest, Brienne still found it disgusting, but on the other hand – do her own dismay – she found herself almost forgiving Jaime for that transgression. It was not like he had forced himself on anyone, after all...

“No, I don't,” Renly interrupted her thoughts. “Why would you say that was a mistake?”

“Because it is. I've made a terrible mistake. I know I have. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not homeowner material.”

“Sure you are. You're just having a little buyer's remorse.” He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“You think?” Brienne eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed serious. “Okay. Anyway, I've got three bedrooms.”

Renly hummed impressed.

“Check this out.” Brienne pushed the door open and went inside. “One is my bedroom. One is my office. And the other one is... I have no idea. How great is that? I've got an entire room with no defined purpose. I’ll probably turn it into a home-gym.”

“Why aren’t you going to your old gym anymore?”

“I just – I like training on my own, ok? And now I’ve finally got enough space to use that Jillian Michaels box-set you guys gave me on my birthday.” She had told him that Jaime was working at her gym, but she would be damned to bring up that subject again.

“It’s because of that copslayer, isn’t it?” Apparently Brienne didn’t need to say it on her own, Renly knew her well enough. She squirmed and he added quickly: “Oh, I brought you coffee and a bagel.” He held up a paper bag.

“You suck,” she said half-heartedly, grateful for the topic change.

“Excuse me? Oh, still with the smoothie fast? Aren't you feeling crappy enough without adding spinach to the mix?” Renly grinned, took the bagel out of its bag and offered it to her.

“It’s not a fast, it’s called eating healthy. And I do eat plenty of things: oatmeal, yogurt, fish, veggies, organic meat... I'm trying to do something healthy for a change. I'm 23. I don't have a boyfriend, I live by myself. I go to work, come home, go to work again. Is it so beyond the realm of imagination that I might want just a little bit more from my life, that I’m trying to make a positive change?”

“Wow,” Renly seemed in awe. “That’s the longest rant I’ve ever heard from you. I've got to believe this is the spinach talking.”

“Why don’t you just put that bagel-“

“Now, now, only Loras is allowed to do that.”

Brienne blushed. “I was going to say ‘put that bagel back into its bag’.”

“I know, dear.” Renly gave her a mischievous grin.

That’s when Brienne’s phone rang. She picked it up and as soon as she heard what her boss had to say, her face went white.

“Renly,” Brienne struggled to get out the words. “We need to go to the office ASAP.”

*******

When they arrived at the office, Catelyn was standing in front of the TV. Apparently the press was already onto the case.

“The slain officer, Jon Connington, was shot to death near his Northeast Heights Precinct," the newscaster reported. “Police sources tell us before joining Albuquerque PD, he served with distinction on New Yorks's narcotics division. Connington leaves behind his wife of 12 years, Ashara, and a child, Aegon, age 10.”

“Hey. What's going on?” Brienne asked out of breath. “Anyone know anything about the shooting?”

“Not much,” Catelyn answered. “He was off duty. Got shot four times up close, down on Central. Never drew his weapon.”

“It could have been someone he knew,” Brienne tried to reason. “Cops make lots of enemies.”

“Yeah,” Renly said, obviously unconvinced. “Or maybe he ran into someone he knew from New York.”

“What's with the looks between you two?” Catelyn asked.

“He's pointing a not-so-subtle finger at my witness, Jaime Lannister.”

“I'm not pointing anything at anyone. But it wouldn't be the first cop he killed.”

“He took one in the back, then shot that cop in self-defence. And you know that.”

Renly shrugged. “I’m just considering all possibilities. Maybe he shot this cop in self-defence, too.”

“All right,” Catelyn intervened, stepping between Brienne and Renly, who were glaring at each other. “That's enough. We're all on the same team here. Brienne, talk to your witness. Find out where he was last night.”

“I’m already on it,” Brienne said, grabbed her phone and punched in Jaime’s number. But all she reached was his voicemail. He had called her dozens of times the last few weeks and she had always refused to answer the phone, thinking that if it was anything work related – anything regarding his safety – he could always call her office. And now, that she was trying to reach him, he didn’t pick up _his_ phone. Damn that Jaime Lannister! Damn her, for not having answered his calls! What if he had been in trouble all this time and she had failed to protect him just because of her wounded pride? Everyone who had ever mocked her competence had been right all along. She really had no right calling herself a US Marshall.

“Hey, it's Brienne,” she said after the beep, trying to keep her voice calm and failing miserably. “I need you to call me as soon as you get this, Jaime. It's important!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The plot thickens.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who writes comments and gives me kudos. You guys are the reason I keep writing! :)


	5. Chapter 5

There was an unusual turmoil at the police station when Brienne arrived there. Though, perhaps it was not that unusual, considering that one of their own had been murdered. They obviously took these kind of things more than serious.

Dacey Mormont ran past Brienne and shouted at a boy – a young boy, who looked barely out of high school: “Now, why don't you go hustle your flabby ass downstairs, Pod, and bring me back the goddamn ballistics report that I asked for in the first place?” The boy fled in terror.

“Dacey,” Detective Loras Tyrell said. “You can't abuse the civilian volunteers. They work for free.”

“And yet, we're still paying him too much.” Dacey sighed exasperatedly and let herself fall into a chair in front of an overfilled desk.

“We all want the same thing, Dacey,” Loras tried to calm the young woman.

“Yeah, a donut that won't go straight to my ass,” Dacey answered and picked up a stack of papers to flip through them.

“Hey, Loras,” Brienne made herself noticeable. She sometimes wondered how someone like her - with her height, her looks - could walk into a room full of people and still feel invisible.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Loras would never be friendly to her. Something about Brienne just rubbed him the wrong way. Renly used to say that he was jealous of their friendship, but Brienne couldn’t imagine anyone being jealous of her, so there had to be another reason.

“I just wanted to say, we're all thinking about you. If there's anything we can do on our side, please tell me.”

“Thanks. It's appreciated,” he said, his tone suggesting that she should just get the fuck out of there.

“How's it going? You got any suspects? Anyone seen anything? What, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I'll tell you why. You're one... You and Renly are one of those players who don’t show up to the track unless they have a horse in the race.”

“I'm just looking to help.”

“Oh, suuure. Tell me what you know about this. And don't give me any of that, "I can't talk about it" bullshit, because you don’t want to waste my time, right now!”

“I'm just doing my due diligence,” Brienne tried to stay calm and force a smile on her lips. “Seeing if anything I know connects with anything you know. But I can already tell that it doesn't. So, good luck with your investigation.” Brienne turned to leave, but Loras grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him again.

“God help you, Brienne, if I find out you're protecting a cop killer.”

“Brienne?” Dacey chose that very moment to look up from her papers. “What are you doing here? Do you know something about this.”

“Hi, Dacey. Sorry about your collegue.”

“He was my partner,” Dacey answered, tears shimmering in her eyes. “And don’t give me that crap. You’re a Marshal. Is one of your guys involved in this?” She stood up, taking a threatening step towards Brienne.

“I'm sorry about your partner. I don't know anything about his murder. Now, take your hand off me, Loras.” He let her go, albeit reluctantly.

“You're a liar!” Dacey shouted. “Why else would you be here?”

“All right, that's enough.” Loras intervened. “Get back to your desk, Dacey.” The young woman hesitated for one moment, but then followed his orders.

“If it was my partner, I'd be doing the same thing,” Brienne said, remembering that one time when Renly had taken a bullet and she had pressed her hands on his wound, his blood slipping through her fingers, feeling as if it was her own life.

“This is your last chance, Brienne. Either you tell me what you know or who you know, or get the hell out of my squad room.”

Brienne left, realizing that there was nothing she could do right now. They didn’t seem to know anything about Jaime, so his cover was safe. For now.

“This is so strange,” Dacey mused.

“What do you mean?” Loras took a step towards her.

“The last time I saw Brienne was... And she called him Jaime... That name...”

“What are you getting at?” He inched even closer.

“I’m not sure yet, but...” Dacey bit her lip, furrowing her brow in deep thought. “I’ll have to check out some old news shows.”

*******

As soon as Brienne left the police station her phone rang. It was Jaime’s number!

“Where have you been?” She shouted, gaining a few strange looks from the passersby.

“Working.” Hearing Jaime’s annoyed voice melted one knot in her stomach only to form another one. “Is this about that dead cop?”

“I called you seven hours ago.” _Alright, don’t panic,_ she thought. _Don’t let him hear you panicking._

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “I was in the gym. I turn my phone off when I’m working. You know, just because we slept together once, doesn't mean you own me.”

“Where are you now?” She was going to ignore his last sentence. She could do this. She was a professional.

“Home. Alone.”

“Stay there. I'm coming over.”

“Yes, Marshal.” Was that a lecherous laugh she heard? “You know,” he continued good-natured. “If I had known that killing another cop would get you to come to my house, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“Don’t even joke about that!”

*******

“You look good for someone who hasn’t been to the gym for ages.” Jaime said as he opened the door. “Thought you’d be fat by now.”

“Where were you last night?” Brienne stormed past him into the apartment, then abruptly got to a halt in the middle of his living room.

“I took a walk around Old Town.” Jaime closed the door and started walking towards her. Slowly. Like a predator approaching his prey. “ I had a drink. Alone. I got home around 11:00. Also alone, unfortunately.”

Jaime was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, no socks or shoes. His hair was damp and as he invaded Brienne’s personal space, she could smell the mint in the shampoo he used.

“Did you know this guy, the one who was killed, Jon Connington?” Brienne took a step backwards, feeling suddenly light-headed as her blood rushed to her nether regions. Gods, why was she still attracted to him after everything she knew?

“Look, I didn't even know everyone in my precinct.” He took a step towards her, she took a step backwards. “No, I didn't know the guy. And no, I didn't kill him.”

“Next time I call you, call me back.”

“Why didn’t _you_ call _me_ back?” He suddenly reached for her and pulled her into his arms. Brienne wanted to push him away, but for some strange reason she just place her hands on his upper arms, feeling his hard muscles.

“Jaime,” she said with a hoarse voice. “We don’t have time for this.”

“You mean this?” He had his left hand placed on her hip, the other one reached up to slowly stroke her cheek. He looked at her lips and moved his face closer while her heart and stomach both fluttered at different speeds.

“Please,” Brienne whispered, not sure what she was pleading for. It didn’t seem to matter to Jaime anyway. He brought his mouth against hers, at first lightly, but as he felt a violent shudder pass through her, he gave up any pretence and pulled her even closer against his hard body. He kissed her deep and long, opening her mouth with his.

Luckily – or unluckily – Brienne’s phone rang at that very moment, bringing her back to her senses and giving her the willpower to slip out of Jaime’s embrace.

“Your copslayer's about to get arrested,” Renly’s voice came through the speaker.

“What?” She gasped. “How is that possible?”

“I have no idea. Catelyn’s on her way over to metro now. Thought I’d give you a head-start.”

“All right. Thanks.” She hang up and turned to face Jaime. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

“We don’t need a motel. My bed’s right there in the room next door.” He gave her one of his infuriating smiles, full of promises that made her heart flutter.

“We’re going to the police station.” Brienne took a few slow breaths to calm herself. “Better you walk in than get dragged in. I don't know how they found you, but at least they won't have the satisfaction of bringing you in.”

And just in time to ruin her day even more, sirens started wailing, someone kicked the door open and a squad of policemen stormed into the room.

“Step back!” Loras commanded. “Stay where you are! Both of you! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

“Are you out of your mind?” Brienne stared at him unbelievingly. “You're drawing down on a U.S. Marshal!”

Loras chose to ignore her. “Jaime Lannister, you're wanted for questioning in the murder of Officer Jon Connington.”

“So,” Jaime said, looking at Brienne with his flashing green eyes. “What's Plan B?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn to the rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for all those, who are still following my story, even though I didn't update for such a long time.

**“** I'm telling you, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Jaime said, trying his most charming smile on Dacey and failing miserably.

**“** Keep walking, douchebag,” the young woman growled and shoved him so hard that he stumbled and almost fell to the ground, not being able to use his cuffed hands to balance himself.

**“** Don't say a word,” Brienne told him, her eyes still mostly calm.

_That means she's got a plan_ , Jaime thought. _That's good_. Still he said: **“** How about when this crazy bitch shoots me for trying to escape? Should I say something then?”

Brienne didn’t answer since Loras was suddenly standing in her way. “Visitors go around front.”

**“** I'm here on official business.” She tried to push past him, but he wouldn’t let her.

**“** What kind of business would that be? Because if you want to state, for the record, your official connection to my prisoner, I'd be happy to let you pass. Otherwise, you go around front and fill out a visitation request like everyone else.”

**“** Why are you doing this?”

**“** Because I don't like copslayers. And right now, I'm not too wild about you, either.” As if there ever was a time when Loras was wild about her. But he was just another obstacle she had to get around... just another in thousands of obstacles...

Brienne turned towards the front entrance and took out her phone on the way. Catelyn picked up in the middle of the first ring.

**“** They're booking Jaime.” Some of that fear that had been building up inside her slipped into Brienne’s voice. “And Loras won't even let me in.” _I sound almost as if I were a small child, asking my mother to make everything ok again_ , Brienne thought. But then again, Catelyn Stark was the closest Brienne had ever come to having some kind of mother figure.

**“** I'll take care of it,” Catelyn said matter-of-factly. “I’ll immediately call the U.S. Attorney's office. They just peed on the wrong dog's porch.”

————

Two and a half hours later Catelyn arrived at the police station, wearing an emerald evening dress that showed off her cleavage and suggested that this whole affair had just ruined one of those romantic dinner dates she had had with an increasing frequency those last three weeks.

**“** This Federal Court Order gives my people complete access to Mr. Lannister,” she said, waving an envelope in front of Loras’ face. “That means two Marshals on post, 24 hours a day. Your lead detective will keep us up to speed on any developments in the case.”

Brienne hid a smile as Loras grabbed the envelope, pulled out some serious looking sheets and angrily pressed his lips together as he started reading. Catelyn didn’t. She turned towards Brienne and said: “You’ll handle the situation from here on, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good, because I have some unfinished business with a bottle of red wine and a certain Italian tennis player.” With those words she turned and left, but not before winking at Brienne, who felt a blush creeping up her neck.


	7. Chapter 7

“I didn't know the guy. Not here, not in Chicago,” Jaime said for the 19th time, knowing fully well that no one in the interrogation room believed him. Not Dacey who sat at the opposite side of the table he was handcuffed to, not Loras leaning against the wall glaring at him, not the two police officers guarding the door. Maybe Brienne, maybe she believed him. She had this innocence about her that made her want to see the good in everyone, even if it was only a small spark of decency.

  
“We know all about Chicago,” Loras said with a smug smile. “We found the gun that you dumped three blocks away in the arroyo. And once we find your prints on it, the D.A. won't be offering you any deals.”

  
“You know what’s been the worst law enforcement idea in the last 100 years.” Jaime tried to sound nonchalant. “Male-female partners. Do you know that nine times out of ten, they end up screwing or killing each other? Or both?” He looked straight into Loras’ eyes. “Ten bucks says that girl did it.”

  
“You bastard!” Dacey screamed and sprang to her fee. “You bastard! Bastard!” She leaped onto the table, grabbing Jaime’s throat and shaking him violently. He tried squirming out of her grip, but she was strong and he couldn’t even bring his hands up for self-defence. But just as Jaime started seeing stars, the police officers who had been guarding the door pulled her away from him and pushed her down into her chair again.

  
“Easy, Dacey!” Loras said. “We need to do this properly, and afterwards I guarantee you a first row place for his execution.” Then he turned to Brienne, who had taken several steps towards Jaime, but now returned to her place, standing next to Loras. “So, that's the kind of guy you go for? A rat copslayer?”

  
“Anything other than they both worked in Chicago tying these guys together?” Her voice was calm, but a blush was showing on her freckled cheeks.

“I'm confident we've got the right guy.”

“We’ll see about that.”

____

“Hey. So, where do you want to start?” Renly asked first thing in the office.

“This morning, you were ready to fry Jaime. Now you want to help him?” Brienne looked at him suspiciously.

“No, I want to help you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” It still confused her when people generally cared about her and wanted to help her. “All right. You go look into Connington's case, see who else has an axe to grind. I'll go talk to the widow in the morning, see what the guy was like.”

“You really think that's a good idea? She just lost her husband.”

“I have to. Jaime’s life is at stake.”

“Yeah, about that.” Renly touched her arm lightly. “Are you sure he’s innocent and you’re not just doing this because of what he does to your panties?”

“I don’t know,” she said exasperatedly. “I just know that I have to find out the truth and whatever it is... This is about justice, Renly, not about what I want.”

“Ah, you with your high morals.” He sounded almost sad. “I’d thought you’d seen enough of how the real world works by now.”

“I have,” Brienne answered, thinking about all those bullies from school who had called her an ugly freak, thinking about the only boy who had asked her out for prom only to find out that he did it to win a bet. “I have seen enough injustice and cruelty for a lifetime. But that will never stop me from believing in something higher – in justice and humanity and...” She trailed off, lookint at the window but only seeing the office’s reflection in the dark glass.

————

“Mrs. Ashara Connington?”

“Yes,” answered the woman opening the door. She was in her mid-thirties, beautiful, with thick black hair, violet eyes and a very feminine figure.

“Hi. I'm Brienne Tarth from the Marshals Service. I just wanted to say, on behalf of all of us, we're so sorry for your loss.” Brienne stepped through the door and handed her some flowers that she had bought on her way over.

“Thank you. That's so thoughtful.” Ashara eyed the cheep supermarket flowers that looked like rampant weeds next to all the expensive bouquets she had received today. “Would you look in that top cabinet and see if I have any vases left? With your height you don’t even have to step on a chair to reach it.”

“Sure.” Was that a quip against her looks? Maybe, probably. She reached up and handed Ashara a vase.

“Did you know Steve?” The widow asked as she filled it with water and put the flowers in it.

“No. No, I didn't. But everyone I've talked to speaks so highly of him. He must have been a great cop.”

“He was. He was a hero, too. Twice decorated. Once here, and once in Chicago.”

“It sounds like he had a lot of close friends on the force,” Brienne mused, looking at the proudly beaming widow, who had no hint of sadness in her voice.

“Not really. You know, he was so devoted to his family, he didn't have a lot of time for other people.”

“What about his partner? Dacey?” Brienne silently cursed herself for referencing Jaime’s stupid theory from the interrogation. But she had to go after every hint, right?

“What the hell are you doing here?” exclaimed Dacey Mormont, who was suddenly standing in the door.

“Paying my respects,” Brienne tried to defend herself, feeling ashamed of her thoughts from just a second ago.

“Get her out of here! What the hell is wrong with you? Coming here.”

“All right. I'm leaving!” She didn’t want to make a scene, not here, not on a day like this. She crossed the street to her car, but as soon as she fished the keys from her pocket, she heard Dacey behind her again.

“How dare you,” the young police woman said. “Have you no sense of propriety, of honour? Would you still be such a cold-hearted bitch if your partner got killed?”

Brienne turned around to look at her. Dacey was standing only two feet away, arms crossed before her chest.

“Look,” Brienne started. “I actually know exactly what you're going through. My partner got shot a few months ago. I almost lost him.”

“Did you get the guy?”

“Yeah. Two bullets in the chest.” Brienne wasn’t proud of her first kill, she still had nightmares about it. But it had been necessary to save Renly and she would do it again any time.

“Good.”

“Hmm. I want you to know that if it turns out Jaime is your guy, I'll hold him down while you do it. But I don't think it's him.”

“Yeah, well, forgive my skepticism, but objectivity kind of goes out the window once you've slept with a guy.” She blew a stray lock of hair out of her face.

“What?” Was this common knowledge now?

“I heard Loras saying it.”

Brienne’s skin felt like it was on fire. “Sorry, but I- I have to go now.”

“There’s one more thing you should know.” Dacey stopped her once more from getting into the car.

“We got the report this morning. Ballistics got a hit on the gun. It was stolen from an evidence locker in Chicago five years ago.”

“I don't suppose I need to point out Connington was from Chicago, too.” Brienne was staring at her car, not daring to look into Dacey’s eyes.”

“Connington didn't steal his own murder weapon. Oh, and there's one more thing. Your lover lied about knowing Connington. They worked the same murder case six years ago. And that's enough to charge him.”

————

“You lied to me,” Brienne hissed as she stormed into Jaime’s cell. “You worked a case with Connington in Chicago.”

“Jesus.” Jaime sprang to his feet. “Does anybody in this town do their homework? That case was the murder of an alderman and his entire family. I probably did work with Connington on it, along with 400 other cops over a two-year span. The whole goddamn force worked that case. I swear I didn’t kill him!”

He reached for Brienne’s hands and she didn’t push him back. That was a good sign. “Gods, Brienne, you have to believe me!” He pulled her a bit closer and looked into her sapphire blue eyes. Was that a shimmer of tears he detected?

“Have I ever lied to you? Have I not told you every dirty little secret I have?”

“Cersei...” Brienne swallowed hard. “If you did something like that, maybe you also-“

“I fucked her because I loved her,” Jaime said vehemently. “Every stupid little thing I ever did was for love. Cersei, that time I got the best lawyer you can buy to keep Tyrion from going to prison even though I knew that he was guilty of drinking and driving,... even ratting out my old buddies. I didn’t do it for some honourable belief in justice; I did it for that skinny little girl Pia whom I loved like a stray cat you pick up from the streets and take home with.”

Jaime sighed heavily and rested his forehead against her shoulder. “Jesus, Brienne, if you don’t believe me, then nobody will.”

Brienne nodded slowly. “I believe you and I’ll fix this, I’ll find out who did this. I promise you, Jaime, I’ll clear your name!”


End file.
